Page 22 of The Beast of Ashwood Manor

Soon, my stomach rumbled, and I put the book down and made my way down to the kitchen. The sound of sizzling meat filled the kitchen, and my mouth watered as I watched Royce fork over two pieces of sausage onto my plate.

He sniffed and looked at me, his bald head shining. “Got greens over in the pot. And corn bread. Help yourself.”

“Thank you,” I told him. Holding out my plate, I scooped over collards beside the sausage and took a piece of the corn bread.

“You can have more than that, you know,” Mary said, coming up beside me. “Don’t be shy.”

“I feel like I’m taking too much food when I eat.” I smiled. “You’ve all been here much longer than me.”

“We don’t mind. We’re just glad to see a new face around.” She put a hand on my arm. “Not that we want you to be cursed. It’s just . . . it’s been a while. And it gets very tiresome around here.”

“I imagine it can be.”

“Come on, we can sit outside on the terrace. It’s a nice evening.”

I followed her outside and sat at a table that looked like it hadn’t been used in a long time. It was so worn, the wood had splintered in many places, and moss grew along the bottom of the rickety chairs.

I smiled at Mary before I took a bite of sausage. It was delicious, and I devoured it quickly.

A few trees that grew in the courtyard held leaves that were turning yellow or orange. Confused, I looked at Mary and asked, “Is it autumn here?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Can’t you tell?”

“Well, back in the real world, it was spring.”

“The seasons are like a mirror, I suppose. Everything is flip flopped. So, I suppose while it’s autumn here, it’s spring in the real world, and then winter and summer.”

“But I noticed the trees in Ashwood are red. All of them.”

“We’ve all speculated that. No matter the season, the leaves in Ashwood stay red, and they are never bare. That’s not to say they don’t fall, but it seems they replenish quickly. Edgar and I think it’s because of how much death is there. I once heard Lord Gil tell my mother that the forest was like one big slaughterhouse. I couldn’t help but wonder if there is so much blood there that the trees drink it and their leaves stay red.”

My fork hovered in the air as I brought the sausage to my mouth, but then I put it down. I looked over at the animal pens in the distance, saying nothing more about the trees because, honestly, that was terrifying to think of.

Looking at the chickens made me think of what had happened earlier with Gil. He stayed in his tower most of the time, and if he ever left, he was impossible to try and talk to. I had a feeling his avoidance had to do with the man who tried to kill him before.

I glanced at Mary, my curiosity piquing, and asked, “Can you tell me what happened between Gil and his lover?”

She put her fork down, her face solemn. “Oh. Well, eight years ago, Gil vied after Jared’s affections. He was very romantic. We all watched in awe, sure he would be the one to, well, you know. But then Jared saw . . . a part of Gil that he didn’t like. He tried to hurt Gil, but he failed. He ran off into the woods, and we haven’t seen him since.”

“Gil? Vying for affections?” I scoffed and looked at Mary, and when she nodded, I knew Gil had truly loved Jared. “But the man, he . . . What happened?”

“Gil gained a scar from the knife Jared attacked him with.” She touched her left side where her ribs were. “He’s been very leery of us since. He’s had more to do with you in the past week than any of us in the past six years, so forgive us if we’re pushy about these matters of the . . . well, you know.” She drew a heart in the air with her fingers.

I smiled and looked down. It was a heavy task to gain someone’s trust and love, and I had already talked to Gil about trying it. But I knew now that it would take more than simply talking to him. To love each other, we’d have to get to know each other, and he didn’t want that. Loving people came easy for me. I had a tender spot for nearly anyone who was kind to me. But Gil was another story.

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to try if he won’t talk to me.”

“He talked to you today.” She took a sip from her cup.

My shoulders slumped. “You know about that?”

“We all know about it. There isn’t much we don’t know. It’s a pretty big deal that he came to you. In fact, he hadn’t talked to me in weeks until you came along. It’s a big change.”

“But there’s nothing I can do if he doesn’t trust me.”

“Thenearnhis trust.”

“I don’t know how.”

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